


Gal Pals

by sophialemongrenade



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: F/F, alcohol mention in fourth chapter, alcohol mention in second chapter, alcohol mention in third chapter, at this point I'm sorry if you need alcohol tagged this may not be the fic for you :(, im poor and dont own video james so sorry for canon noncompliance, lol can you tell this is shameless self insert, or actually just ignoring canon entirely, plumeria's age is never mentioned but i assumed shes an adult?, reader has a murkrow cause murkrow's my fav, sorry if you headcanon otherwise, technically hurt/comfort i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-03-25 08:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13830678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophialemongrenade/pseuds/sophialemongrenade
Summary: You're having a hard time dealing with a crush you have on your best friend forever and it's causing her to think you don't like her anymorealso this is the first thing I've written and submitted to AO3 so be gentle w/ me





	1. liek dis if u cry evertim

Plumeria's coffee table is a wreck of abandoned takeout containers and gatorade bottles, and not much can be said for the rest of her little mobile home either. That's neither here nor there, though, when Plumeria is nestled among the mayhem; she's living up to her name, a flower bringing life and color to an otherwise drab environment. Your eyes are following the planes of her face, where her delicate natural features sit in contrast to her bold, skillfully applied makeup and hair. She's not even looking at you, because her luminous golden eyes are following the action on the TV, taking in the movie that the two of you are supposed to be watching together. How the fuck can you watch a movie when Plumeria is anywhere near? 

"Hey," she says, looking at you suddenly out of the corners of her eyes, "Are you ok?" You try to keep cool, and toss out your reply casually: "Yeah, what's up?"

"You're just sitting, like, really stiff," she says with a small smile, and you realize she's right. You're on the complete opposite edge of the couch, glued to the arm, not facing the TV, and sitting straight up as if you're at attention to Plumeria herself. You used to be so at ease here, this used to just be your best friend's house where you'd kick off your shoes and let murkrow fuck around in the yard, but your admiration for Plumeria has grown so much that it's actually managed to distance you from her! You always thought she was beautiful, but desiring her has made you feel unworthy of being loved back. 

You try to relax your body and get into the movie. You scoot your legs a little closer to Plumes and try to lean on the arm of the couch, instead of gripping it like a drowning person. She seems to approve of your relaxed outer demeanor, and tangles her feet with yours, leaning on her own side of the couch. You remember old times between the two of you, times almost identical to this, and you try to get back to that feeling. Eventually, it works, and it relaxes you for real! In fact, it relaxes you so much... 

You snap back awake to a dry mouth and the TV on static. Your neck is stiff from sleeping on half of a couch, which was the most you could get because Plumeria seems to have relaxed pretty hard too. Groggily, you drink some water straight out of the faucet in the kitchen, and go find your old overnight bag that you left in her closet during high school. Maybe you can just brush your teeth and wash your face and go home, just text her later that you had fun, really you did, and you're sorry you were so tense and quiet and then fell asleep...

She turns on the bathroom light and it startles you so much you basically gag yourself with your toothbrush. "Oh my gAWd," she laughs at you as you desperately try to recover from deep-throating your fucking toothbrush. "Motherfucker," you screech playfully, and you grin and splash her with water, "you scared the shit out of me!" 

"Sorry you're too zoned out to hear me, I guess," she teases. "It's pretty late, or early I guess? Why're you brushin' your teeth in the middle of the night?"

"I was just gonna leave, since we both fell asleep, and I wanted to kind of wake myself up," you say. She frowns. 

"You know I don't mind if you stay over, right? That's the whole reason you have that stuff here." You blush a little, and mumble, "I mean if it's cool or whatever..."

She frowns a little more intensely, and narrows her beautiful, if smudged, eyes at you. "Yo, dude, what the fuck is goin' on? I feel like I barely see you anymore, you're always quiet when you're around, and you're always just fucking hurrying up to get away from me! Did I fuckin' do something? Are we fuckin' straight?" 

You notice that even though her words are gruff, as is usual for her, her eyes are becoming shiny and wet. She pauses for a bit, and you can't seem to say anything, because how can you admit what's really happening? 

She speaks up again: "Are we friends, or no? You don't got to keep humoring me if you don't wanna come around no more!" She actually begins to cry, and this is something you truly did not expect.

Now you can act without thinking, and you finally do. You pull her into your arms, and give her the kind of hug you would have when you were kids. "I am so fuckin' sorry I made you think I ain't your friend anymore," you say, and she stops crying, stunned at the suddenness of the embrace. 

"I'm really sorry, I've just had some stuff going on lately," you lie, "and I guess it made me seem kinda distant." She reaches her arms around you and finally hugs you back. 

"You know you can tell me anything, though," she says, and the feel of her muscles against your body, her breath against your neck, makes you pull her tighter. "I wish you'd just tell me, maybe I can help you and it won't bother you so fuckin' much."

You guys stay in a weird silent hug for a little longer, because you don't know what to say and she's just waiting for you to ease up and spill it. You finally pull away and smile shyly and say "I know I should be more open but if I'm bein' real, I'm honestly just tired as fuck right now, you know?" 

She seems disappointed, but you've assured her you guys are still friends, so she smiles back and says, "You cool with stayin' the night? We could catch breakfast tomorrow morning on your way home." 

"Yeah dude, sounds good," you say sleepily, and she washes her face before the two of you cram into her little twin bed, head-to-foot like you've always done. You face the wall and wonder if you'll ever tell her, for real, what's bothering you so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so I might add onto this and change the rating, I guess if I do that will make it something akin to a slow-burn. I wanted to just write PWP but uh... no luck with that obvi because I fucking cockblocked the reader even in fiction lmao  
> I know that there's almost no Plumeria/reader, and it's hard in general to find lesbian FF so I seriously do want to continue this, please let me know if you liked it. Thx


	2. Uuuuh, hunty this is bi erasure...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rumor come out: does Plumeria is bi???

The next time you see Plumeria it's for an OG hangout starting at her place and ending with a night of bar-crawling. You and Guzma show up at Plumes' place early in the evening, you with a bottle of pinap berry vodka, and Guzma with a case of beer. While she's getting ready (which always takes a long time, because as she says, perfection ain't quick), you and Guzma pre-game in the kitchen. You two are just fucking off, watching murkrow peck at Plumes' trash, and watching golisopod straight-up just eat some of it. Guzma tipsily chases him away from stuff that isn't actually food while you laugh at the scene he makes.

"Scuse me, are you tryin' to fuck my house up worse than it already is?" You turn toward the sound of her voice, and she's there like you've seen her a thousand times, dressed for the clubs, her makeup just a little different, a little bolder, fine-tuned for nighttime. You could see her every day, and at times you pretty much have, and still every change, every experiment with clothes or dye or makeup would bowl you over.

"Hey, nice a' you to finally show up, took so long I coulda swore you moved out or somethin'," Guzma grins somewhat lopsidedly while Golisopod begins munching on discarded styrofoam behind him, and the sight breaks you out of your beauty-induced stupor.

"Yo, pouuur me a draaank," she says to you, sing-songing it to sound like the lyrics of a pop song you two used to like. Then she says, sharply, to Guzma, "sit your ass down so I can fix your janked-up eyeshadow." He gladly plops down and she begins blending out the purple pigment over his lids, the look of concentration on her face pricking something tender in your chest. You set down some vodka mixed with sitrus juice and ice beside her hoping she'll compliment your choice, but she ignores the drink, wrapped in her art.

When she's done, she turns to you. "Is that all you're gonna do to go out?" You blush and giggle, knowing your makeup skills aren't great and wondering how you're going to survive if she leans in close to fix you, too. But she does! And your face feels hot and you're maybe gonna die! You're already way too drunk, drunker than you should be so early in the night, having started off with the hard stuff. Every time you close your eyes to let her swipe something across your lids, you feel as if you're swaying, as if you could lose balance and crash right into her...

"Ok now open your mouth." You open your eyes, see the lipstick in her hand, and obey her request. She places a finger on one side of your lip to stretch it a little, and it's careful, even intimate, but then she finishes and tells you to smush your lips together and the moment is over. You look at your makeover in her hand mirror, and on the one hand it's fucking beautiful, the kohl-black liner crisp and sharp, every color on your lid fading into the next like sunset clouds come to rest on your face; she even contoured your cheekbones! On the other hand, you can't help feeling like a nicely-painted jackass. You don't get very long to sit and feel sorry for your awkward self before the three of you head out, though, and then the excitement of going out with your best friends takes over.

Later, at your third bar of the night, a tourist place with loud music and a stupid "Island theme," you leave the dance floor to catch your breath, and lean against the bar with Gooz. He's not much for dancing, since he's so tall and lanky it just makes him look like a spasming twigsect. You order a drink now, having since danced out the molasses feeling of getting too drunk too quick. You lean against the bar sipping silently, and watching Plumeria dance to the music under the colored lights, her hair swaying like strands of silk behind her.

Guzma gives you a bit of a side-eye, and since he's even less subtle when drunk, blurts out what he's thinking two seconds later. 

"Yo, are you gay for Plumes or what?" You nearly spit your drink in his face, and begin to choke while he slaps you on the back way too hard. Eventually, a little worse for wear, you're both able to settle down. 

"Why do you ask," you say, hoping to make the phrase sound as cool as it does in old movies. Instead you sound like a weird old lady.

"Uh, I dunno, ya boi just kinda noticed you can't seem to focus on much a' shit when Plumes is around. Didn't really used to be that way, I thought somethin' mighta changed." Guzma, who has the emotional IQ of a log on the forest floor, has managed just this once to accurately clock your situation. 

You counter him. "Even if I was that into Plumes, it ain't like she'd feel anything back! You guys fuckin' dated! Ain't no way she's interested in me, or any girls at all..." 

Guzma looks at you with a little annoyance, "Ey, you know there's more than two options, right? Plumes don't gotta be straight just cause she took a ride on the G-train!" He grinds his hips into the air and you gag audibly at him.

"Please do not ever speak the fuckin' words 'G-train' ever ever ever again," you say, and the conversation devolves into Gooz just yelling G-train at you over the music while you plug your ears and stick out your tongue at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao I'm an only child so this Guzma stuff is my best approximation of a sibling relationship. Hope it's not too cringey  
> Also my headcanon for golisopod's personality even tho he's all big and threatening looking:  
> http://i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/025/212/isopodsss.jpg


	3. Wake Up, Ya Lush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're the first to wake up and you stare at ur sleeping friends like a creepo  
> Also all of you are hungover, no one is free of sin

The next day around noon, you opened your eyes slowly, only to sit straight up in bed immediately. The night before, you had daringly (or maybe just drunkenly) laid down next to Plumes, your arm draped over her shoulder and your face resting against her back. She had put a hand on your arm and mumbled goodnight into her pillow, and you had breathed out in relief before giving in to sleep. Immersed in your dreams, you'd forgotten that you would almost certainly wake up face to face with her, but now here she was, illuminated in the midday sunlight! Her eyelashes, pale when clean, rest on her cheeks that are blushed with sleep and scrunched slightly toward the center of her face by her pillow. Her hair is loose and lies tangled around her face in a riot of pink and yellow, as if she were sleeping on a bed of strange neon flowers. You sigh at how her silly sleeping face makes your chest ache, and instead of bending down to kiss her on the nose, you shoot up out of the bed in search of something to distract yourself.

That was a horrible idea! Your joints and head ache with memories of the night before, punishing you for moving so fast right after waking up. You shuffle painfully into the kitchen, passing by Gooz in the living room, his ridiculously long body curled up to fit, impossibly, on Plumes' couch. You decide it would be best to go ahead and make coffee for everyone, and when the coffee maker begins its burbling noise, Plumes shuffles into the kitchen, in as much evident pain as you are. You both catatonically stare at the coffee dripping down into the caraf, before filling your mugs and sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, both of you spacing out in between careful sips of the hot coffee, while Guzma's breathing and occasional snores fill the silence.

You imagine you could be quiet with her like this forever.

You've almost finished your coffee when the regular breaths begin to falter and Guzma shifts on the couch to sit up and rub his eyes. "Somebody gimme some coffee," he growls, and Plumes says "get it yourself. 'S all ready in the kitchen."

He drags his feet, shoulders slouched over more than usual, into the kitchen. Plumes looks over at you and smiles, the first one you've seen today, and you smile back. Then you both laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short but I did really want to think about what Reader would do right after the conversation in the last chapter, and I wanted to show that maybe they'd been emboldened somewhat so I hope that comes across. Also, I sort of love being the first person to wake up at a sleepover, there's a really distinct comfy vibe or whatever that goes with it, I love making coffee for everyone and maybe food if I'm up to it, and I thought that could be rlly cute in fiction if one of your friends was also your crush. Hope this was nice!


	4. A Little Thelma and Louise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're feeling down on yourself and can't think of a good way to move forward with telling Plumes u luvv her but then I introduce Deus Ex Guzma and a shitty friend from high school to save the day. Plumes wears a sexy cop outfit because why not

About a month after you guys' night out, you feel like you're in limbo. Guzma knows but only makes fun of you like an eight-year-old, Plumeria seems to be oblivious (or maybe she knows and just hates-- wait, stop thinking like that), and you're no closer to spilling your secret than you were before. The only thing that feels like it's changed in any substantial way is the season, and around here that ain't saying much. It's afternoon/morning, the weird time of day you only witness when you wake up at 2 PM. You walk around the little side yard next to your apartment complex, doling out beans to Murkrow for his sick tricks and wicked flips, and even though it's September, the weather is warm enough that you're still dressed in the thin tank top and shorts you sleep in. "Yes!" you say to Murkrow, "Good boy! Perform for Mama in her Depression Suit!" 

"What the fuck is a depression suit, is that what you call your pajamas?" You freeze in utter mortification until you realize the voice belongs to Guzma, who has suddenly appeared leaning against the fence that hems in your side yard. 

"Yo Guuuuuuz!! I wasn't expecting you!" You try to show enthusiasm but you really just wish you didn't have company right now. Even so, you run over and give him a hug, and he picks you up with his arms around your ribs and shakes you, cracking your back. "Aaah, fuck dude! Put me down, come on!"

He puts you down gently, but then ruffles your already-messy hair for good measure. You glare up at him, but quickly drop the Evil Look and ask him what he's doing at your place.

"I was in the neighborhood," he says, "and I wanted to tell ya that Kahale invited us to his date-party thing."

"What the fuck is a date-party thing?" Your stomach feels cold and unsteady at the thought of potentially having to find a 'date.'

"It's for his frat, it's a thing where you come in a pair, dressed up in some costume. They all got themes. So like, this time the theme is 'partners in crime,' and I know he invited me and Plumes cause he's a piece a shit, and I know he just wants to impress everyone cause he knows BIG BAD GUUUUUUUZMA from high school. Anyway, I told him I'd come, but since I hate his fuckin guts, I thought how bout you and Plumes be the partners in crime? A little Thelma and Louise? A little throw him off his high horse? A little two-birds-one-stone?" Now he won't stop waggling his eyebrows, at first suggestively, but then so wildly that it's completely absurd and he just looks crazy.

"Uuuuuuuh, did you tell Plumes?" you ask, hoping that she'd signed off first so you'd know for sure she wanted to.

"Yeah, she's down as hell, she fuckin hates Kahale. She's basically all like, 'everybody get to my house at six, we're gonna fuckin crush this costume shit,' so yeah, you comin?"

Something warms in you that you haven't felt in weeks. "Yeah man, let's do it. Fuck Kahale!"

He laughs and then says "Take a shower first, ya nasty."

After you've showered, you and Guz head to Plumeria's place, where she's piled potential choices from her wardrobe on the coffee table, making her living room appear more of a disaster than usual. 

"We can't JUST show up with an all-girl crime duo," she says, flipping shirts like a wild dry-cleaner, "We also have to ruin Guzma!"

"Ruin Guzma?" You say, "Isn't he already fucked beyond repair?"

Plumes laughs and Guzma gives you the bird. "He needs to look normal, like a random guy," Plumes says, "or else Kahale still gets what he wants, and everyone thinks he's just SO GREAT for getting Guzma to come."

Guzma scowls and goes to the kitchen for a beer. "I shoulda known you two were gonna find a way to cramp my style. Ya couldn't just be satisfied with one whole-ass emasculation, you had to go for me too!"

Plumes and you ignore him, sifting through pastel button-downs and discussing the merits of each one. Eventually, the two of you settle on a hideous mint-green collared shirt with an embroidered navy-blue anchor pattern. Down below, too-short khakis are obviously mandatory, and the outfit is finished with a pair of old beaten-up brown boating shoes, no socks. 

"My feet are gonna reek like a fuckin landfill at the end of the night," Guzma says, as he sullenly allows the two of you to scrub away his fake tats. 

The final touch, of course, is the hair. This is Plumes' area of expertise, after all, she's the one who bleached Guzma's hair white in the first place. You serve as assistant, holding the can of Halloween temporary brown hairspray while she combs the color through his hair, smacking him when he complains. At last, the two of you have created a frat boy, and you fall on each other laughing as Guzma stares at the mirror in disgust.

Plumeria lets you do your own makeup tonight, to your disappointment. "The whole point is not to stand out, so just do your everyday stuff, with maybe a little less eyeliner than you usually go for," she says. She stands up straight from the pile of clothes she's been sifting through, and holds out a "prisoner" costume, a cheap pajama-ish outfit from a Halloween store. "I know you don't like tight clothes very much," she says, and lays it in your lap. You're grateful, because you especially don't like wearing tight clothes at frat houses.

In the interest of not standing out, Plumes is wearing a wig of shoulder-length mousy brown hair. You wonder, in awe, how many wigs she owns. You've never even seen this one before. For her costume, Plumes pulls out a sexy cop outfit. "Aren't we supposed to be 'partners' in crime?" you say, and Plumes says "Hey, I could be a crooked cop, who knows?" You laugh, and go back to doing your most basic makeup. The theme isn't very important anyway, since this is all just a stupid joke. It's all a joke, and the date isn't real, and yet you're still nervous! You think about the chances you'll have to tell her, and all the ironic "date" stuff you can do, like opening doors for her or getting her punch or dancing together. What if she kisses you as a joke? Your palms sweat and you stab yourself in the eye with mascara.

"Hey hot stuff, you have the right to remain sexy. Anything you say can and will MAKE ME BUST A NNNNNUT!" Plumeria punctuates the last word by kicking a leg up in the air, and when an empty can hits your shoulder you realize that's what she was kicking. Pleased with her own reference, she doubles over laughing and makes an intentionally ugly honking sound, and the tight cop dress bunches up around her waist and shortens even more.

"Oh Officer, surely there's something I can do," you say, dragging the cheap and scratchy neckline of your shirt away from your neck to reveal your shoulder, which you gyrate around wildly. She laughs even harder, and yanks your shirt into place before appraising your makeup.

"Looks good, Plain Jane. Ready to go?" You smile and stand up, and the three of you head out to wreak havoc.

Fuck Kahale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for a non-canonical University because I do what I want lmao
> 
> BTW I know it's been literal months, it was my last semester of college and I was pretty busy until graduation, but NOW I HAVE TIME TO BE GAY AGAIN ON THE INTERNET
> 
> Also, fuck Kahale. Fuck that guy.
> 
> EDIT: Today is Gay Gayteenth, TwentyGayteen so it's a blessed day for my return (May 18 2018. Yeah it's a bad pun i know)


End file.
